Now, do you want to please him by
what he thinks you do, or by what you really do?"
"By what I really do, of course."
"Does he think you use cribs and vulgus-books?"
Tom felt at once that his flank was turned, but he couldn't give in. "He
was at Winchester himself," said he; "he knows all about it."
"Yes; but does he think you use them? Do you think he approves of it?"
"You young villain!" said Tom, shaking his fist at Arthur, half vexed
and half pleased, "I never think about it. Hang it! there, perhaps he
don't. Well, I suppose he don't."
Arthur saw that he had got his point; he knew his friend well, and was
wise in silence as in speech. He only said, "I would sooner have the
doctor's good opinion of me as I really am than any man's in the world."
After another minute, Tom began again, "Look here, young un. How on
earth am I to get time to play the matches this half if I give up cribs?
We're in the middle of that long crabbed chorus in the Agamemnon. I can
only just make head or tail of it with the crib. Then there's Pericles's
speech coming on in Thucydides, and 'The Birds' to get up for the
examination, besides the Tacitus." Tom groaned at the thought of his
accumulated labours. "I say, young un, there's only five weeks or so
left to holidays. Mayn't I go on as usual for this half? I'll tell the
Doctor about it some day, or you may.
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